


What are the words I'm forbidden to say?

by weirdodecoy



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Crack, Fluff and Humor, Gen, basically jason and damian commit some misdemeanors, ft the importance of education
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 21:38:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15805083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdodecoy/pseuds/weirdodecoy
Summary: Jason'll be damned if after all this effort he doesn't go down in history as the 'cool older brother'.





	What are the words I'm forbidden to say?

This had all regretfully started with a phone call from Alfred, and Jason’s complete inability to utter a single, one syllable word. 

So he was here now, motorbike parked in front of Gotham Academy, wearing a presentable leather jacket and no holsters, trying to wipe the grin off his face as Damian stalked onto the pavement, headmaster and a teacher in tow. The demon brat looked almost—deflated, if that was the word. Furious and deflated. He was probably starting to regret whatever had gotten him suspended.

“Todd.” Damian hissed, blatantly displeased that an urchin such as Jason had dared to establish some sort of familial tie with him.

The Headmaster bravely put a hand on Damian’s shoulder as he came to stand in front of Jason. With a sigh, Jason straightened off his bike. 

“Hello, Mr….?” The Headmaster extended a hand, which Jason promptly ignored.

“I’m here to pick up the punk.” Jason grinned, winking at Damian, who looked simply murderous. Jason was too busy savouring the complete slide in reputation Bruce was going to suffer from this to let that bother him.

The teacher next to the Headmaster was already examining him with varying degrees of disgust mixed with incredulity, while the Headmaster was simply speechless. In that moment, Jason regretted that he had stopped smoking, and that the bruise on his cheekbone had gone down to a paler shade. He should’ve worn his stained leather jacket. God, this was simply delicious.

 

“I’m afraid I can’t simply hand Mr Wayne over to a stranger.” The Headmaster’s voice was almost shaky, and his face went a distinct shade of purple as Jason pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing Alfred.

He put it on speaker.

“Master Jason?” came Alfred’s voice from the other end. 

The Headmaster and teacher stood rooted on the spot, while Damian half rolled his eyes.

“Alfred, I’m here to pick up Damian, but they won’t let him go.”

“That’s peculiar, I am sure I wrote you down as a family member. Regardless, Damian can go home with his brother.”

Jason smiled sweetly at the Headmaster, who now looked ready to vomit. “Thanks Alfred, I’ll see you at the manor.”

He hung up with a click. “Now, that’s settled.”

“I apologize, Mr Wayne.” The Headmaster let go of Damian’s shoulder, and Damian jerked away, striding over to stand next to Jason, jaw tight.

“I’ll remind you he is suspended for three days.” The teacher who had accompanied them outside did not seem to share the same reverence of the Waynes. “I hope you learn from this experience, Damian.” She said, looking straight at him, and then turned back, followed by the Headmaster.

Jason opened his motorcycle’s compartment slowly, watching Damian all the while. His expression was closed off, brow furrowed. It was almost liked he looked ready to cry, but Jason knew him better than that.

“Where’s Grayson?” Damian asked instead. He grabbed the helmet Jason held out to him.

“I dunno.” Jason fixed on his own helmet, leaving the visor up. “Probably offplanet.”

“Why couldn’t Pennyworth pick me up?”

Damn, was this kid good at complaining. “Because your father bled out last night, what’s he going to do? Leave him alone?”

Damian was pouting, now, eyes downcast. “Whatever, Todd, I still don’t understand why I cannot drive myself.”

Jason almost laughed. He settled for a small grin. He really looked like a snobbier Bruce. It was almost cute. “Listen, kid, want a burger?”

Damian looked up at him, mouth curling. “And why would I want that?”

Jason swung his leg over the bike, settling down with grace. “‘Cause your dad is pretty pissed, and I’m sure you’d rather not have him yelling at you.”

Damian fixed his own helmet on, taking his seat on the bike behind Jason. “If we must,” he grunted, finally. 

Jason dropped his visor down, and smiled. 

 

***

 

The burger joint Jason tended to favour was in a little more rundown part of Gotham than the Academy. Damian probably only ever got to see these streets by moonlight, Jason thought as he zigzagged through narrow and narrower alleys. Well, he could turn this into some valuable learning experience for the kid. It would do him good to see some actual Gotham, instead of the stainless walls of the Manor, in all its ivory tower likeness. Jason parked the bike right in front of of the diner’s windows. 

“Is this it, Todd?” Damian’s features were already assembling themselves into the familiar pout as he removed the helmet.

“This is it.” Jason replied, not giving an inch. The kid could whine all he liked, they both knew that anything was better than Bruce’s scowling expression and disappointment. 

As Jason locked the bike, Damian stood in front of the entrance, looking increasingly awkward.

When he noticed Damian’s hesitancy over entering, Jason leaned forwards, holding the door open for him. “Better, your majesty?” 

Damian rolled his eyes. “Your complete lack of respect is fascinating, Todd, were you born with it? Or do they teach it in these slums?”

Jason clapped him on the back, shoving him forwards. 

 

***

 

Jason ordered two cheeseburgers, much to Damian’s dismay. Jason coupled his with a vanilla milkshake, and double fries. 

“What? The beef’s already dead, it would be a shame not to eat it.” Jason said when he noticed Damian’s pout. 

Damian just shook his head slightly.

“So,” Jason begun, sucking up his milkshake from the straw noisily. The way Damian’s eyebrow quirked in annoyance when he did that was adorable. Hilarious, and adorable. He looked so much like Bruce it almost made Jason want to punch him in the face. “Why’d you get kicked out, huh?”

“I did not get ‘kicked out’, Todd, I was merely suspended.” Damian stuck his fork in the pile of fries in front of him menacingly. “Regardless, I don’t understand why I must go to school, I have university level knowledge of many topics.”

“Whatever, squirt.” Jason set his milkshake down. “You can’t drive, you have to go to school. It’s almost as if you were ten.”

“Twelve, Todd.” Damian raised his fork, levelling it in his direction. “Don’t you forget that.”

They sat in silence for a while, Damian eating his fries with knife and fork. Jason suppressed the need to laugh. “Hey,” he said, not unkindly, jutting his chin out at Damian. “You can eat those with your hands, you know?”

Damian surveyed him with a blank stare. “Though I am in an uncivilized place, Todd, I must behave in a civil manner.”

Jason choked on his milkshake.

When the burgers arrived, Jason dug in, shovelling almost half of one in his mouth without a second thought. Damian’s expression was one of pure horror.

“How my Mother seems to think so highly of you is a mystery, Todd,” he said, pouting as he watched Jason bite down on more food. “Your manners are those of a neanderthal.”

Jason just chewed louder. “Listen,” he tried to say, his mouth full, and when that came out like gibberish, he swallowed and tried again. “I think going to school is really damn important. Not everybody gets to go to one of the best private schools on the East Coast, you know.”

Damian looked at him, jaw set. “Is this supposed to be some kind of lesson?”

Jason shook his head. “No, but education is important.” He shrugged and shoveled more food into his mouth.

“I suppose my Mother would also agree.” Damian said, reluctantly. “She did arrange for me to be tutored by the best of the best in combat and strategy.”

Jason scoffed. “Combat and strategy? What about the other stuff, Damian.” Jason waved one fry in the air. “Like, you know, Literature.”

“I was taught the art of war through books, obviously I can read.”

“No, like creative writing or something.” 

Damian looked at him blankly. 

“Forget it.” Jason sighed. He tried to think about other subjects he’d found interesting in school. “What about maths? Or physics? Biology? You know, the important stuff.”

“I can count just fine, Todd, no thanks to you.” Damian popped a fry in his mouth and began ticking things off with his fingers. “I can also calculate the blast radius of a bomb, or defuse it. I know how long it takes for a grown man to bleed out, and I know where all the main organs are located. I can stitch minor wounds. You know,” Damian sneered. “The important stuff.”

This time, it was Jason’s turn to stare. This was a pre teen, telling him that he knew all that was needed to be a killer, and he didn’t even realise it. “Damian,” Jason finally bit the words out. “There’s more to knowledge than that.” 

Damian shrugged “As I already said, I have university level knowledge of most topics. Mother taught me everything I need to know. She trained me to be the best. Therefore, I don’t see what benefits could be reaped by forcing me through standard education with those imbeciles I have to call classmates.”

Jason looked at him hollowly. He wasn’t Bruce. What was he even doing, talking to Damian about staying in school and education and quoting Bruce. Dick was better at this than him. Even a fucking rock was better at this than him. 

“You know, there is more to education and knowledge than the art of war or how long it takes a man to bleed out, Damian.”

“My Mother—”

“Yeah, why aren’t you staying with her anymore, by the way?” Damian’s eyes on him were hard, face of steel. Jason stared back. “Your Dad is so full of shit sometimes, but at least he didn’t make you climb cliffs, or train you to stab people to death. He’s just making you study Algebra.” Jason wanted to laugh. It’s not Damian’s fault that he turned out like this, and Jason wants to hurt whoever made him this way. Since when did he start getting such strong feelings over Talia and Bruce’s kid of all people? This just sucks.

Damian’s face is completely unreadable. “Don’t patronize me.”

They went silent for a while again, after that.

“I don’t care for education if I must face harassment each day to get it.” Damian said, suddenly. Jason stopped chugging his milkshake. “I am surrounded by xenophobic imbeciles, and because I am better than each of them, they must resort to sabotaging me and other improper tactics.”

“What do you mean?”

Damian gestured at himself. “Today, they called me a terrorist.”

Jason’s grip on his milkshake tightened to the point where the plastic of the cup gave, splashing some of the melted ice on the table. “What?” 

Damian’s shoulders twitched. Talking about it obviously bothered him. For as much as he pretended to be thick skinned, Damian was just a kid. “They insulted me, because I am not caucasian. Therefore, they had to pay. Father may not understand that, but it had to be done.”

“I got suspended too, once,” was Jason’s reply.

Damian paused. “I suppose that’s to be expe—”

Jason didn’t give him a chance to finish his jab. “Yeah, a street runt like me, right? Well, nobody at Gotham Academy liked me either. So, I punched a bully. Second week I’m there. Got suspended for three days. You know what Bruce said?”

Damian nibbled on one fry, looking distinctly uninterested, but Jason ploughed on, regardless.

“That I let them win. I had an opportunity, you see? I could study, work hard, and show them that a mixed street kid from Crime Alley can do anything. Show them that they’re no better than me, or you. He said that by getting suspended I was getting in the way of all that.”

Damian stopped chewing, and swallowed. “You don’t understand either, then.”

“Bullshit, Damian. Some people need to be punished, and I know that better than anyone. So, I guess, Bruce is right, about not letting them get in the way of my education, because they’re just,” Jason grinned. “Imbeciles. But that damn punch was worth it.”

“Did they stop harassing you, after?” 

“Well, they shit themselves whenever they saw me, so I suppose it worked.”

After the longest time, Damian grinned back.

 

***

 

Outside, Jason handed Damian his helmet, and then turned the key in the ignition, letting the bike rumble softly as he turned to address Damian.

“Listen, kid,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Are you up for some more good old fashioned vengeance? I think we have more justice to dish out.”

“Father won’t take it well.”

Jason’s mouth twitched. “Not if he never finds out.”

An hour later, they were back cruising in Gotham Academy’s richer district, carrying two packets of eggs. Jason had to put his foot down when Damian had asked him to use the tank of gasoline he kept under the seat. Unfortunately, he wasn’t going to set fire to rich people’s houses with Bruce breathing down his neck, no matter how much he wanted to. It cost him all his dignity to say no.

Damian tapped his shoulder, and Jason braked, stopping just short of the mansion’s driveway. 

 

“Let’s do it, Little D.”

Damian didn’t have to be told twice. He began to shower the house in eggs with deadly precision, while Jason turned the bike’s throttle, letting the engine scream. He could hear Damian starting to laugh. Satisfyingly, one of the eggs burst on the front door, spattering it with egg’s entrails. Another one crashed into the veranda, dirtying all the flowers, while another one hit the walls next to the window, painting the white and brick with goo. 

Jason was laughing too, and when one of the eggs went clean through the veranda’s window, shattering it, he laughed harder, the bike’s engine roaring. 

“I think someone’s coming outside,” said Damian, and, indeed, a man in bathrobe and slippers had just opened the door. He was shrieking something, but it was too hard to hear over the thunderous laughing that erupted from Damian when one of the eggs hit the floor next to the man’s feet, soaking the his slippers. 

Jason enjoyed the look on the man’s face for a second, before he turned the bike around. “Was that was your last egg, squirt?”

Damian raised the empty packets slightly. 

“You’ll hear from my lawyers!” The man was yelling. Jason flipped him his middle finger as he drove the bike forward, leaving the man’s egged house in the dust.

 

*** 

 

When they reached the Manor, Bruce and Alfred were waiting for them on the steps. Bruce was in a wheelchair. Jason waved at him, pulling his visor up. He couldn’t tell, but maybe Bruce smiled at him. Damian hopped off the bike and gave Jason his helmet back. 

“Todd,” he said, his face looking as if it was caught between two different realities. He fidgeted with his jacket for a bit. “That was….. What is the word? Fun?”

Jason smirked. “Yeah, bet you don’t do much of that with Grayson. I suppose I’m the cool brother, now?”

Damian’s lips pursed, but his eyes were glinting.

“What took you so long, if I may ask?” Alfred had come down.

Jason gazed up at Bruce’s stony expression, and then at Damian’s face. The kid’s eyes were alight, and it wasn’t anything close to a smile. It was something much more mischievous. Jason decided that giving the brat the benefit of the doubt had turned out for the best. So, he winked at Damian, and then looked back at Alfred.

“Nothing much, kid needed some air.”

**Author's Note:**

> jason and damian have so much unexplored potential, they really are the Duo.
> 
> title is from 'boogie' by brockhampton, which inspired me to write this fic.


End file.
